Black Daliahs Book One
by mirrorstare
Summary: Book One in the terrible Twins series. Marauder era. Damian and Dementia have always been alone. But when they're adopted by a rich wizarding family they find their true destiny and what they have to do to live the right life. On major Hiatus... sorry!
1. Chapter 1

A small girl made her way through unknown streets, following a boy that was just a few steps ahead. Even in their second hand cloaks and with their dirty faces, people parted for them, recognizing the features that marked them as dangerous. Both with raven black hair and cold grayish blue eyes. Yes, they were small for their size, slim and fit, but they were tall for their age. The boy looked over his shoulder, checking on his sister, but kept moving forward.

They had no idea who they were, the two children. But they knew they were different. Some people feared them, others just simply stayed out of their way. Some who weren't so lucky, the ones who dared to stand up to them, were soon taken care of, though the children knew not of how they did what always happen. A broken limb, a serious illness, missing toys, and boils or bruises were just some of the things that happen to those unlucky few.

Quickly dodging up the steps to a building and holding the door open for his younger twin, the boy looked around, locking eyes with one figure in particular. The man was good looking, maybe in his late forties, but still very young looking. He smiled a small, almost cruel, smile towards the boy and turned away.

"Damian, come on, before Miss Simmons is up!" hissed the girl, already at the stairs and glaring at her twin. He looked back at her and turned his head again. The man had disappeared, leaving Damian with a wired feeling. "Damian," his sister hissed again.

"Alright, Demi," he said calling her by the nickname he had given her. She smiled in spite of herself and moved up the stairs, silently, passing the creaking steps with a hop over them. Her smile became a grin as she reached the top and watched her brother copy her moves with the ease of an experienced acrobatic. They peaked around the corner, checking the hall for Miss Simmons or her ugly hairless cat. Noting that the coast was clear, they headed to the room that they shared, barely taking a breath until they were safely inside, behind the locked door.

Sitting down on her bed, Demi, short for Dementia, looked at her brother with concern. As she took a bite out of one of the apples they had stolen, she put her thoughts into words. "You saw him again? That man?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Damian answered, peeling his own fruit. "He was smiling, like he knew something we didn't. Then again, he probably does." Moving across the room, Demi smiled at her brother, hugged him and kissed his cheek. She had finished her apple and was ready for bed. Smiling again, the ten year old lay down, squeezing the only toy she had to her chest and quickly fell asleep. Her other half however stayed up thinking about the stranger that they had seen more and more often since their last birthday.

Over the course of the next year, the twins were visited by no less than five families. All of them seemed the same, mentioning weird and strange things that only the twins understood, only to be thrown out by Miss Simmons. Then they were looked at scathingly and sent to their rooms for the remainder of the evening.

Both had grown into their tall frames, no longer looking like gutter snipes, but more like under dressed royalty. And that could mostly be in thanks of food they seemed to be swiping with ease. Fruits would float towards their hands when they were out at night. They could get second helpings when the Matron wasn't looking. And even if she glanced back they weren't seen. It was as if they were invisible. But anyone could tell that they would become very good looking children.

But for now they were two eleven year olds leaving the only place they had ever called home, to live with a rich family that was just like them. Turning away from the orphanage, they both had the same thought. It was never home.

"Come along, now, you two," Robert LeStrange said to the two children. He smiled and held open the back door of their car and let them slide in.

They looked around having never been in a car before. They were never permitted on the trips that the orphanage took. A woman in the front turned and looked at them with a kind smile. "Hello, I'm Helena. It'll be so nice to have some new faces in the house," she said, still smiling. The car began moving as she spoke again. "So I've heard that you like to read Damian?" She was rewarded with a nod. "And you like stuffed animals, Dementia?" Another nod. "And you both like green. And snakes?" Yet another nod. Helena smiled, remembering that the children were both like their father, quiet. "Alrighty, I hope you both like your rooms then."

The twins looked at each other and then back to Helena with a smile. It was polite and almost believable, if she didn't have to see it every other week on a man with the same features as these children.


	2. AN Preview of the Future

It all started on a muggle street corner. It was strange, to say in the least. How Dementia came across the idea. Her father was dead, thanks to the 'great' Harry Potter. Her older brother, Damian, was no where to be found. Her mother had long since gone mental. And she was alone, with no where to go. She had been walking, head down, hood up, even as hot and sunny as it was, when she heard the tuning of a guitar.

The person playing with it began to string out cords and people were beginning to gather round.

"Oh what the heck," she said to herself, stopping and looking up at the three people who were on the corner.

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars. I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars._

Dementiashook her head at the weird muggle lyrics, but she was entranced by the music, and continued to listen even as others began to leave.

_ Look at me, look at me hands in the air like it's good to be ALIVE and I'm a famous rapper even when the paths are all crookedy. I can show you how to do-si-do, I can show you how to scratch a record. I can take apart the remote control but I can almost put it back together._

A remote control? What was that? Some muggle device for torture? Sounded fun to Dementia. She had dozed out and missed some of the song. She tilted her head and listened again.

_I can keep rhythm with no metronome, no metronome, no metronome. I can see your face on the telephone, on the telephone, on the telephone._

It seemed to Dementia they were keeping rhythm fairly well. Well, for muggles. She knew wizarding singers had much better voices. Especially compared to some muggle gutter snipes. The boy singing smiled at her as he sang, trying to be cute she supposed. She raised her eyebrows, but did nothing else. She missed some of the song again and this time she focused in. She would hear this song. Something was telling her to finish it.

_ Look at me! Look at me! Driving and I won't stop! And it feels so good to be Alive and on top! My reach is global, my tower secure, my cause is noble, my power is pure. I can hand out a million vaccinations, or let 'em all die in exasperation. Have 'em all healed of their lacerations, have 'em all killed by assassination. I can make anybody go to prison just because I don't like 'em, and I can do anything with no permission. I have it all under my command! I can guide a missile by satellite, by satellite, by satellite; and I can hit a target through a telescope, through a telescope, through a telescope; and I can end the planet in a holocaust! In a holocaust! In a holocaust! In a holocaust! In a holocaust! In a holocaust! _

Dementia listened to the song with new ears. A holocaust. She had heard that word before, at many of her fathers meetings. She racked her brain for the meaning of it. Destruction or slaughter on a mass scale. She thought to the beginning of that part.

_My reach is global, my tower secure, my cause is noble, my power is pure._

Her father was trying to do the right thing. His cause oh so noble, his power completely pure. She shook her head. It was as if fate had brought her here. It wanted her to finish her father's work, to restart the ridding of Muggles and Mudbloods. To make the wizarding world full of clean blood again. An outside force wanted her to do this.

She nodded her head. Dementia knew what she had to do. She would need to find her brother of course, so he could help her. Together they could rule the world with a mighty fist. With a secure tower and noble cause. To rid the world of filth and bring power back to the wizarding world. She smiled. The muggles would all pay, dearly.

And to begin with, she needed to kill off that dreadful Harry Potter, and his friends too, for good measure. The mudblood and the blood traitor. Along with the halfling.

She would get them all.

_I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars. I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars._

Yes, she would ride her bike with no handlebars and succeed. Though she had no idea what that meant. She would do it though. She fetched some muggle cash from her pocket and put it into the hat they had lying out.

"Woah, wicked tat," said the singer. He was smirking and looking at her forearm. "Where'd you get it?"

Dementia smiled and looked down at her arm.

"It was a gift from my father. Passing on the family business." She smiled and once again put her hands in her pockets, walking away, to restart her father's, Voldemort's, noble cause.

A/N

A little sneak peek for all you TRT1 folks. Working on the second chapter, don't worry, I'll get it up asap!

Mirror


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I ownz nada!

Damian walked around his new home, still not ready to call it home, never mind how much Demi was. He at least knew what he was now. It had been a strange occurrence once he and his sister had found out. He a wizard, she a witch. Even more over when they met others like them, such as Bellatrix Black and Lucius Malfoy, just some of the friends of their adopted brothers. It was summer break for them, and Rudophus said we would be quick to follow them to school. This year even.

It was the one thing the outcast was looking forward to. Somewhere to belong, other than when he was alone with his sister, who even now was taking more to the LeStranges than the dark haired boy. Dark eyes searched for his sister, and found her finally in front the tank that separated their rooms, the one in which their pet snakes were housed. She had her head tilted and she let her fingers run across the glass, smiling as her favorite snake followed her fingers.

Her black hair, once lank and made fun of, was restored, luxurious and long. The dress she wore was made of real silk, and was the deepest shade of green, contrasting with her pale skin and the darkness of her eyes and hair. She turned to him, as if sensing her twin, and smiled. Quickly standing, she raced to him and grabbed his hand. "Come on," she said tugging him down the hall.

They were to look nice for the guest that were arriving for supper that night. And his sister was to play a piece that Robert had taught her. She grinned at the him as they sat down on the bench. "Watch," she said, and as she began the cords, the ones on the other side of the piano started by themselves and the song to Greensleeves started to sound throughout the room. Damian watched in amazement, seeing his sister's hands fly across the keys and the others play as if an invisible hand played along. She smoothly slid into Chopsticks and looked up at her brother, her eyes shining, making the blue more pronounced.

He smiled back and they both looked up at a voice in the doorway.

"Your getting better," Helena said, her slender arms crossed and her red dress touching the floor. With a smile, she added, "Come, the guest are here."

Standing the twins walked with their 'mother' to the formal dining room. In an instant they were surprised at there being only one person there, and even more who the person was. The man whom they had seen countless times with a small cruel smile on his face. Now the small smile was a full blown grin as he looked upon the children. He stood as they walked in. Walking around the table, he watched the twins with an almost feral look in his eyes.

Robert stood and easily, Demi's gaze moved from the man to the person who claimed the father position in her heart. She ran to him, squeezing his middle in a hug. He hugged her back, but turned her back around quickly, slightly pushing her back towards the man and her brother. The man had just continued to watch, his gaze never wavering. Damian stared back the same intensity in his stare.

"My Lord," Robert said, and only then did Damian look away, looking at the man of the house, "may I introduce, Damian and Dementia, our youngest. Damian, Demi, this is Lord Voldemort."

"Oh, please, you can call me Mr. Riddle. Even Uncle Tom, if you would like. You'll be seeing a lot of me after all. It's a pleasure to meet the both of you," the man said, his voice soft like velvet and quiet as a mouse, though there was something just under the surface.

Damian looked at the man in cold abandon, whereas Demi didn't even look at the man. She curtsied a little before heading to her seat in between Rabastan and Rodolphus. She looked at them and grabbed each of their hands, frightened.

The two looked at her with reassuring smiles as the handsome man watched her with his creepy smile. Slowly she stopped shrinking into her seat and looked back at him with a fearless look. Looking back at Damian, Tom tilted his head contemplating.

"I hear you like to read,write, and research, things like that," he said quietly.

"Yes, sir," the small boy said back.

"Well then, I think I may have a job for you when you come of age," Tom said smiling. Damian's eyes grew wide and he smiled a mile wide grin.

"Really?" he said happily. The Lord nodded his head and gestured for the boy to sit down.

AN

Okay, not much, but an update right? So, this chapter was inspired by Sweet transvestite! Jk, anyways like always read, review, helps me think. Mwahs, and buhbyes!

Mirror


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